


(Christmas Eve Will Find Me) Where the Love Light Gleams

by heartunsettledsoul



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, mistletoe trope because i cannot be stopped, riverdale holiday 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 04:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13092447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartunsettledsoul/pseuds/heartunsettledsoul
Summary: "It made for a ridiculous image: Veronica dressed in heels and a chiffon dress, but wearing a Santa hat and covered in flour; Archie wielding a ball of dough and as many decorations as could fit in his arms; and then Betty, placing felt antlers on her head as though it were her battle armor and yanking a protesting Jughead up by the elbow."or:Betty's in for a happy surprise when she shows up for Christmas with Veronica and Archie and their front door is opened by none other than Jughead Jones.





	(Christmas Eve Will Find Me) Where the Love Light Gleams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dearly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearly/gifts).



> my exchange prompt fill for the lovely consultingpathologist/thiscaringlark! full of fluff and happiness because what canon can't be solved/ignored with a good future Christmas au? 
> 
> shoutout to the equally lovely flwrpotts for being my beta!

Ostensibly, Christmas was supposed to be the time of year when one cherished the time spent with their family and loved ones. It was not supposed to be the time when one’s mother disinvites one from the family holiday. But then again, nothing was ever normal with Betty Cooper’s family, so why would the holidays be any different?

Thanksgiving had been a civil, albeit tense, affair at the Cooper household; Betty had good graces beaten into her after years of forced politeness, so she kept her muttering to a minimum and tried to plaster on her best fake smile. She had not been successful. Come the morning after Thanksgiving, when her mother placed exactly one-quarter of a grapefruit on Betty’s plate with a comment on how the second slice of pumpkin pie her youngest daughter had eaten for dessert was unnecessary and she’d never find a husband if she ate like that, Betty’s muttering had escalated into a full-volume screaming match. The passive aggressions had proved too much, the walls of her childhood home closing in on her as they had so many times over the years, and Betty snapped. There was a reason Betty went through a full container of antacids, dug her just-long-enough nails into the tender skin of her palms, and kept a flask of vodka in her purse when she came home. The pristine, suffocating charm of suburbia was just too much.

So Betty was not surprised come mid-December when her older sister, trying to speak loud enough to make herself heard over the shrieks of her twin boys who had just hit the terrible twos, relayed a message from their mother: Betty was not welcome home for Christmas. And good riddance.

“Jason and I can host down here, Betts. The twins love you and I don’t want you alone in the city on Christmas. It’s just not fair,” offered her sister, ever the the calming middleman between sister and mother.

“It’s not worth it, Polly,” she told her sister. Truth to be told, Betty was relieved to have no holiday obligations. No presents to wrap in perfect condition, no prying her eyes open to stay awake during midnight Mass, and -- most of all -- no overbearing mother. It was Betty’s ideal Christmas -- peace and quiet in her quiet Manhattan apartment, with no commitments outside of her pile to books to be read or her full wine rack.

At least it had been until Betty let it slip to her best friend that she planned to hole up alone for the holiday. “Not a chance in hell, B,” said Veronica Lodge firmly. Over and over _and over_ again. “I will not let you be alone on Christmas when Archie and I are a quick train ride away. That is unacceptable.”

Veronica, debutante princess with a heart of gold and a limitless platinum Amex, had taken Betty under her wing when they met briefly during their respective college orientations in New York. There had been a mixer between all the incoming classes -- Veronica at FIT and Betty at Columbia. Though coming from vastly different worlds, the two were fast friends and nearly inseparable for all of undergrad. When Archie, Veronica’s boyfriend since a fated collision in a frat house hallway sophomore year, proposed after they all graduated, Veronica had FaceTimed Betty before he even finished putting the ring on her finger.

Saying no to Veronica Lodge was not an easy feat, as Betty learned over the years. She held her own in regard to her desire for a quiet Christmas alone for remarkably long -- until about three in the afternoon on Christmas Eve Eve. Betty was leaving an afternoon yoga class, feeling decidedly calm and refreshed, when she opened her phone to find 32 text messages, 12 Snapchats, and 2 voicemails. All held the same message from her best friend: I am going to annoy the shit out of you until you agree to show up.

Feeling worn down, Betty looked up the Metro North timetables for the next morning and sent a screenshot to Veronica. “I’ll be on the 9:04.”

***

The train to Greenwich was jam-packed with stylish moms in athleisure clothes carrying shopping bags, small children wrapped in a dozen layers of clothing, and far too many tiny, yapping dogs in purses for Betty’s care.

In an effort to distract herself and _not_ think about how heading straight into suburbia was likely to make her feel just as suffocated as if she had gone home for Christmas, Betty thought back to Veronica and Archie’s wedding earlier that year. The newlyweds had thrown a lavish, last-hurrah-in-Manhattan ceremony before flying the coop to Connecticut, where Archie accepted a job teaching music in a private school and Veronica could put her fashion to degree to use by designing the homes of those even more absurdly wealthy than she. Their wedding had been a beautiful, exciting affair and Betty found herself drifting back to the happy memories of an evening spent laughing uproariously at the head table, dancing with Veronica until her feet hurt, and exchanging made-up backstories of the guests in the crowd while she people watched with Archie’s childhood best friend.

Jughead Jones, Archie’s defacto brother, was an enigma—silent except when tossing out dry witticisms, prone to post up in the corner of every single pre-wedding event with his head in a book or scribbling in a journal, but owner of the softest, most genuine smile whose eyes had filled with tears of his own when Archie got choked up saying his vows. Betty hadn’t known what to make of him but many of her favorite wedding memories were centered around the quieter moments spent sitting next to him at the bridal party table.

She remembered Jughead looking good, albeit uncomfortable, at Archie and Veronica’s wedding; he was clearly not one for suits or ties but he filled it out well and no one could argue that the wedding photos didn’t look beautiful. Veronica had picked out impeccable tuxedos for the groomsmen with ties that corresponding to the varying shades of pink and red of her bridesmaids’ dresses. Betty, as maid of honor, was in a petal pink strapless gown that matched Jughead’s best man tie. Their personalities meshed and they made a fun game out of muttering critiques of the fabulously wealthy during all the wedding events involving Veronica’s Upper East Side life.

Betty also remembered the looks he gave her over the course of the wedding night, full of affection and bemusement when she downed an extra glass of champagne before giving her toast, when she ditched her high heels to dance barefoot with the entire bridal party and pouted until Jughead reluctantly joined so she wouldn’t be alone. She remembered having a really fun night and regretting only two things the next morning: the tequila shots Veronica had talked her into and not asking Jughead for his number.

So when Jughead Jones answered the door of the Lodge-Andrews household on the morning of Christmas Eve, Betty was startled but not at all displeased. If she was going to be subjected to suburban Christmas again, at least she’d have him to balance things. It certainly did not hurt that the sheer look of giddy relief on his face when he saw her made Betty go weak in the knees. “Betty, thank _god!”_ he exclaimed. “I’ve been here without reinforcements for a day and I’m dying.”

With a gentle smile, Betty walked through the doorway and found herself wrapped in a one-armed hug. Betty tried not to let the shiver down her spine become too obvious. Months may have passed since they’d last seen each other at their best friends’ wedding, but it was clear the attraction still deeply affected her. Jughead was as handsome as ever, with his boyish charm and movie star good looks. One of the fellow bridesmaids had once joked that his jawline could cut glass and that thought echoed in Betty’s head as he smiled at her affectionately. His dark locks of hair were back under the confines of his trademark beanie with the crown points—its removal had been non-negotiable for the wedding—but a single curl fell across his forehead in defiance. Jughead looked _good_ in his worn flannel, muscle definition hidden but not forgotten, and Betty was suddenly very glad her face was already pink from the cold air.

“Veronica is trying to bake,” he whispered conspiratorily in her ear. Their proximity meant that Betty’s responding snort of laughter landed directly on his neck, a huff of hot air that had him releasing her and backing away quickly. The hand around her shoulder instead went to the back of his neck, rubbing at it nervously. Before Betty has to even think about fighting the urge to still his hand with her own, an excited shriek rang out across the enormous foyer.

“Betty!” Veronica came barrelling toward her best friend, unceremoniously pushing Jughead out of the way to hug her. “I’m so glad you’re finally here!” The raven-haired woman was dressed to the nines, despite it only being 10am, and Betty laughed when she saw specks of flour dotted across the front of her crisp green dress. “You’ll get the grand tour but first you need to help me. I’m trying to make Archie’s mom’s apple pie, but I am completely destroying the crust.” Veronica whisked Betty away, further into the beautiful house, but not before she mouthed a joking _help!_ to Jughead, who merely winked and laughed.

Veronica led Betty into a glittering kitchen fit for a five-star restaurant—and completely _un_ fitting for the newlywed couple, because Veronica could barely make pasta without the water boiling over and Archie’s specialty, as Betty knew from their college years, was reheating takeout. “Don’t worry,” she sing-songed, as though reading Betty’s mind. “I hired a cooking staff for brunch and dinner tomorrow, but I wanted to at least _try_ to do something myself. Especially since this is Archie’s first year doing Christmas without his family. But you know me, I’m useless in a kitchen unless I’m designing cabinetry and decor for it.” Betty had to laugh at that because she knew the impeccably beautiful kitchen had most definitely been designed and outfitted by her friend, but that the odds she had ever cooked in it since moving in were slim to none.

She had to admire her friend’s commitment to creating the home-for-the-holidays atmosphere for her husband, though. In all the years she’d known them, Archie was always so, so excited to return to his family on breaks from school. He gave off a bro-y, jock exterior, but Archie was nothing but a big softie who would drop any and everything for his family, related by blood or not. (Betty also knew that most holidays at home, Archie would drag Jughead over dinners, knowing his own family wouldn’t be doing anything special.) Archie was madly in love with Veronica, but Betty knew spending Christmas away from his parents for the first time had to be weighing on him. Veronica was clearly doing everything in her power to carry over some family traditions in their first holiday as a married couple.

“V,” Betty sighed, smiling at her good-natured friend. “At least tell me you bought premade crust, just as backup?” The mess on the marble countertop in front of her was a sight to behold: flour everywhere, cracked eggshells, and an overflowing basket of apples.

Looking pained, Veronica dusted some of the flour off herself. “I thought that would be cheating,” she wailed. Betty surveyed the situation, doing her best to keep Veronica calm.

“I think we can salvage this,” Betty said, confidently. “But let’s maybe ask Jughead to run to the store just in case.”

“Hey, Jug!” Veronica shouted, causing Betty to wince at the noise. “I need a favor!”

The man in question poked his head through the swinging door of the kitchen. “You haven’t set anything on fire, have you Ronnie?” Exasperated and busy with the pile of pie ingredients, Veronica did not notice the smirk Jughead threw in Betty’s direction, nor Betty’s responding blush.

Upon dispatching Jughead to the store in search of pie crust (and, perhaps, to a bakery for a backup dessert), Betty turned to help Veronica with the determinedly un-dough-like dough. “So,” she started, aiming for an air of casualness. “You didn’t mention Jughead was coming for Christmas.”

“Didn’t I?” Veronica had the decency to feign confusion. “I must have, because he only agreed to show up after Archie told him I’d invited you.”

 _That_ was a turn of events. “V, I didn’t even decide on coming until last night.”

This time, Veronica’s full-on scheming face emerged. With the artful rise of an eyebrow, she locked eyes with her best friend. “I guess the promise of _maybe seeing Betty Cooper_ was enough to pin down even the most nomadic of Grinches on Christmas.”

***

The group of four fell into an easy camaraderie when Jughead returned from the store and Archie eventually emerged from the basement carrying a ridiculously large plastic bin of Christmas decorations. Betty and Veronica worked dutifully on the pie while Jughead settled into a stool and started picking apple slices out of the pie dish. Frowning, Betty swatted his hand away, but Jughead just grinned mischievously and snuck a marshmallow from the mug of hot chocolate Betty had in front of her. “Stop stealing my food, Jones.”

“Make me, Cooper,” he taunted.

Betty’s jaw dropped slightly, too flustered to make a comeback. She was saved by Archie unceremoniously dropping the container of decorations to the floor with a loud crash.

“Is the house not decorated enough already, Arch?” Jughead asked with an air of incredulity, turning away from a blushing Betty Cooper and gesturing around him. It was a fair point -- true to Veronica’s habits, the halls were decked spectacularly. Fresh garland with ribbons hung from the railings, glittering ornaments were stacked in crystal bowls and vases on every flat surface, and the tree in the den gave the Rockefeller tree a run for its money.

“But these are the _fun decorations,”_ Archie said petulantly. His wife raised an eyebrow at him and Archie quickly backtracked. “The house looks beautiful, Ronnie, of course. I just, uh, meant. Fun as in like the childhood decorations. Cheesy snowmen mugs and mistletoe and singing reindeer. Santa hats, you know?”

Betty giggled into her hot chocolate, amused by her friends. “Valiant effort, Archie.”

It took all of ten second for Veronica to crack. “Oh go on, I know you’re going to wear light-up reindeer antlers either way.” Grinning, the redhead dug into the box of decorations and unearthed enough festive headwear for all of them. He plopped a santa hat onto his wife’s head, pressing a kiss to her cheek simultaneously, and quickly retreated when she rounded the kitchen counter with a handful of flour to toss at him in retaliation. Betty ducked when a stuffed snowman came flying toward her head and crouched to the floor in an effort to avoid anymore decorations that might catch air while the newlyweds chased each other around the kitchen. It may have seemed silly and childish, but these were the kinds of Christmas moments—carefree and happy—that made Betty ache for memories that weren’t her own. Cooper Christmases never allowed for any more than the precise amount of fun that was appropriate. Flour and ornament fights certainly never made the list.

Lost in thought and caught unaware, Betty jumped when Jughead appeared in front of her. He knelt down next to her and lifted an unused baking sheet above her head. Confused, Betty opened her mouth to ask what he was doing—decidedly ignoring how she could feel the heat of his body close to her—but her unasked question was answered when a handful of dough scraps plunked onto the pan with a dull smack.

“When you grow up with Archie Andrews, you know when to take cover during a food fight,” grinned Jughead. Laughter rippled through Betty’s body and, surprising both herself and Jughead, she stood up to join in the antics. It made for a ridiculous image: Veronica dressed in heels and a chiffon dress, but wearing a Santa hat and covered in flour; Archie wielding a ball of dough and as many decorations as could fit in his arms; and then Betty, placing felt antlers on her head as though it were her battle armor and yanking a protesting Jughead up by the elbow. Carefree in a perfectly done-up suburban home for the first time in her life, Betty Cooper grabbed the open bag of marshmallows and turned to Jughead.

“I’ve got the projectiles, you use the cookie sheet as our shield.” she directed. The loose happiness shone in her bright green eyes and for a brief moment, Jughead was entranced. Then he snapped to attention in a mock salute, smirking devilishly at her.

“Aye-aye, Cooper.”

***

When the eve portion of Christmas Eve finally rolled around, the foursome piled into the family room to enjoy a feast of Chinese takeout and the festive cocktails Veronica had poured a disturbingly high volume of liquor into. Archie, still wearing his blinking reindeer antlers, insisted on a Christmas movie marathon. He and Jughead were debating the merits of the original Home Alone versus the sequel when Veronica sidled up to Betty on the couch, pouring more of the red cocktail into Betty’s half-empty glass.

“So,” she whispered conspiratorially. “You and Jughead have been pretty cozy all day.”

Well-versed in Veronica’s interrogation tactics when it came to her love life, Betty answered with an eye roll and a large swig of her drink. Whatever liquor had gone into the concoction was making her feel warm and fuzzy around the edges. Everything felt softer and more relaxed; she almost wanted to tell Veronica how she had desperately wished something would happen between her and Jughead at the wedding reception after party. She’d _thought_ there was a moment—Jughead plucking a piece of silver confetti out of Betty’s increasingly bedraggled hairdo, Betty dialing up the flirtatious sarcasm, Jughead looking into her eyes with an intense stare—and seeing him again after all these months was reigniting the undeniable spark of desire.

Instead, Betty tried to remain casual as she watched Jughead argue good-naturedly with Archie. There was just something about him that Betty could not shake. Her attempt at casualness must have failed because Veronica’s face twisted into a delighted smirk. “You totally have heart eyes, Betty Cooper! This is excellent!”

“I have no such thing,” Betty said quickly, hoping Veronica’s voice hadn’t carried. “If I have anything, it’s only because of how damn strong you made this punch.”

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Veronica merely glossed over her friend’s retort and instead directed her next comment to her husband. “Oh Archiekins, I did put up all of that mistletoe from your box of decorations. So we all best be careful where we’re walking tonight!”

A light glimmer of something like hope bubbled up in Betty’s stomach before she quickly squashed it by downing the rest of her punch and launching herself off the couch. “I’m going to grab the rest of the cookies now so we don’t have to get up once the movie starts.”

She was in such a rush to exit the room and clear her head of inappropriate mistletoe-related thoughts regarding Jughead that Betty did not hear his “I’ll help” or notice him follow her down the hall into the kitchen. Such was her surprise when she turned to lean back on the kitchen counter and saw him mere feet behind her, she yelped loudly.

“ _God,_ Jug, you scared the shit out of me.”

He stared her down with a peculiar, faraway look in his eye before responding. “And here I thought you had those Cooper nerves of steel I hear so much about.”

A flash of deep irritation ran through Betty before she had the chance to remind herself that Jughead was merely teasing and was not insinuating that she didn’t live up to some impossible, unreachable standard.

“I hear they take away those nerves of steel when they disown you, so that explains things.”

Jughead’s brow furrowed in concern and he stepped forward, placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on Betty’s shoulder, rubbing slow circles with his thumb. The comment had started as a joke but, loosened by the punch and by sheer exhaustion over the whole ordeal, Betty’s voice cracked a little on the last few words. “Betts,” he said softly. “Whatever shit is going on that you’re here with Archie and Veronica instead of your family, try not to let it ruin the holiday for you. Far be it from me to get sentimental, but Christmas is supposed to be one of those days where you deserve to be with people who care about you. You definitely have that here.”

Their gazes were locked and Jughead was now close enough to Betty to hear her breath hitch at his words. The intensity between them popped and fizzled, an entity unto itself. She could smell the mint of his gum and a spice she couldn’t place from his aftershave. He was so close. Betty bit her bottom lip, suddenly overcome by the urge to grab Jughead’s face between her hands and pull him to her. Damn Veronica and her punch.

Her hesitation held for a moment too long and then Jughead was backing away slightly. “What you also have here,” he smirked, “is Archie Andrew’s patented Home Alone drinking game. It is not for the faint of heart, so chin up, Cooper.”

Betty let out a long breath she didn’t realize she had been holding in and laughed. It felt good, taking her out of her head and back into the world. “If that’s the case, I need to stop drinking Veronica’s holiday punch. Also not for the faint of heart.”

“ _Speaking_ of Veronica,” Jughead started. Betty raised a questioning eyebrow, not sure where he was going with that opening. He looked pointedly above her head. “Mistletoe. Don’t think she would’ve let us get away that easy.” Looking up, a sprig of fake mistletoe was tied to the hanging light fixture right above where Jughead had just been standing before her.

Something deep in Betty’s stomach flip-flopped frantically. And before she had the chance to stop herself, words came tumbling from her mouth. “Well it _is_ tradition.” She wanted to slap a hand over her mouth as though that would undo the gravity of her words.

As it turned out, Betty needn’t have worried. For however quickly the words had fallen from her lips, Jughead’s action of diving back into her space and grabbing onto her hips for dear life happened infinitely faster. His lips slanted over hers, his inhale stealing the gasp that escaped from her, and suddenly Betty wasn’t just floating because of the punch. The gentle press of his hands on either side of her hips set the skin under her sweater aflame and Betty raised her own hands to loop behind Jughead’s neck and twine into the hair at the back of his neck.

It felt as though time stood still, just the two of them existing in an infinitesimally small bubble of bliss. Everything seemed to happen all at the same time: Jughead’s lips coaxing Betty’s open so he could swipe his tongue across her lower lip, the whine Betty emitted that started somewhere in the pit of her stomach, the two of them backing into the countertop so Jughead could use the leverage to kiss her even harder, the burn of Jughead’s fingertips brushing under the hem of her top.

The moment slowed, their kiss turning from ferocious to light and gentle, and Betty broke apart to catch her breath. Her hands were wound tightly into Jughead’s long, black locks in the same manner one of his own hands was wrapped in her blonde ponytail. It was a near-perfect symmetry.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Betty confessed in a whisper.

“Betty,” Jughead said seriously, while bringing his other hand to cup Betty’s chin and tilt her gaze back up to his eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day I met you.”

They rejoin their friends, cookies in hand, to settle in for the movies. No one commented on their extended absence, though Veronica quirked an eyebrow in Betty’s direction at her slightly disheveled appearance. Jughead commandeered the corner of the sectional opposite from where Veronica was practically in Archie’s lap, motioning for Betty to join him. As the night wore on, blankets were strewn across the pairs and Jughead’s spent the entire second movie tracing patterns into Betty’s thigh beneath the cover of snowflake-printed fleece. Somewhere in the middle of the third movie, Betty dozed off on Jughead’s shoulder and he relished in the comfort of her body resting solidly against his. Betty woke up again around 2am and Jughead was asleep behind her on the couch, Veronica and Archie had long since gone to bed. Pleased more than she might care to admit, Betty resumed her position snuggled under the crook of Jughead’s arm. The pair woke up on Christmas morning with limbs tangled together and shy smiles on their faces.

***

After that year, it becomes tradition for Veronica and Archie to host their two best friends for holidays. Jughead moves to New York permanently the following spring, ostensibly to be closer to his younger sister, but he and Betty are so inseparable that she finally insists he move into her apartment. In three Christmases, a hugely pregnant Veronica fawns over Betty’s engagement ring. The year after that is Ellie Andrews’ first Christmas and her godparents go absolutely overboard buying gifts for the little girl. A few years later, Betty is so frazzled by the train ride out with their bags, all the presents, and the carrier for a three-month-old infant that Jughead halfheartedly jokes about moving to the suburbs so they could just drive everywhere. In another year, they’re the proud owners of a fixer-upper forty minutes away from Archie and Veronica. They update their tiny sedan to an SUV after Betty spends that Christmas unable to stomach anything through her morning sickness.

The world evolved around them, but nothing stopped the Andrews and Jones families from spending Christmas together.

**Author's Note:**

> all I want for Christmas is your praise!  
> (please comment, it keeps us all going)


End file.
